Yet a miracle happened. As the light faded, Viktor wasn’t dead—he was still nearly at full health!

"Impossible! Why aren’t you dead!" Zhang Yuan roared, slamming the table so hard it nearly shattered.

"Because you missed your ultimate," Jiang Xuehan said, her voice dripping with contempt.

"What? Missed my ultimate?" Boy A and Boy B exchanged stunned glances. "You mean Zed actually whiffed his ult? Can Zed even do that?"

Yes, Zhang Yuan had missed. But it wasn’t a mistake—Jiang Xuehan had just pulled off a legendary in-game maneuver: Reflux Footwork.

This top-tier technique blended offense, evasion, and movement. Its creator was unknown, but fewer than ten players worldwide could execute it—and Jiang Xuehan was one.

At the critical moment Zhang Yuan unleashed his ultimate, Jiang Xuehan reacted instantly. She maneuvered Viktor in an erratic, almost impossible path, dodging nearly all of Zed’s skills. She even chipped his health with ranged attacks, forcing Zed to retreat to his turret at half health.

This sounded simple but demanded insane game sense, years of training, and astronomical calculations. Fewer than ten people on Earth could pull it off besides Jiang Xuehan.

Zhang Yuan panicked. He’d bought a Maw of Malmortius to survive this combo, yet it hadn’t killed Viktor. His skills were now on cooldown, leaving no solo kill chance. The shock froze him mid-game.

Jiang Xuehan seized the opening! While he stood stunned, her ultimate finished channeling. A slaughter began.

Silently, a storm cloud appeared overhead, silencing Zed’s abilities. Simultaneously, Viktor unleashed a flawless Q-E-A-A-A-A-A combo—no wasted motions, no delay.

Her insane attack speed canceled wind-down animations, maximizing DPS.

Silenced and trapped, Zed was helpless as a ragdoll. The screen exploded again. The three onlookers covered their eyes. When the light faded, Zhang Yuan slumped like a deflated balloon, the death screen glaring.

Jiang Xuehan walked over and kicked him lightly. "Hey, stop faking. Where’s that apology on your knees?"

"Why… why did my world’s best Zed lose to Viktor…" Zhang Yuan whispered, his eyes dull and lifeless.

"Because you’re not the world’s best," Jiang Xuehan crouched, locking eyes upside down. "You only play on the Chinese server. Your ‘best’ is just local. The world’s vast—stronger Zed players exist. You just don’t know them."

"Stronger… my Zed hasn’t peaked?"

"Exactly! Three years ago, I faced a Zed player on the Korean server. His skills were godlike—even I struggled."

Suddenly, Zhang Yuan sprang up like a leaping carp, eyes burning. "If you praise him, who is he? I’ll challenge him! If I lose, I’ll become his disciple!"

"I recall his ID started with ‘fak’. He admired me too—we added friends. He said he was going pro. Find him if you’re serious."

"‘Fak’…?" Zhang Yuan murmured, his eyes reigniting. "I’ll find him. I’ll duel him endlessly."

"That’s the spirit of a driven boy!"

Zhang Yuan snapped back. He dropped to his knees with a thud before Jiang Xuehan. "I’m sorry. I was arrogant, thinking my Zed was invincible. Goddess, take me as your disciple! I want to grow stronger!"

Jiang Xuehan facepalmed, yanking him up. "Pay the agreed money first."

After handing over ten crisp red hundred-yuan bills, Zhang Yuan kept pleading. "Goddess, please accept me! I’ll be humble!"

This was troublesome. Jiang Xuehan didn’t want a disciple. But she stayed quick-witted. "It’s not refusal. Your skills aren’t disciple-worthy yet. Train hard with Zed. When you reach mastery, lightning will flash in the sky—that’s your sign. I’ll find you then."

"Yes! I’ll become the true world’s best Zed!" Zhang Yuan clenched his fist, vowing solemnly.

*Clap clap clap clap!* Applause erupted in the cafe—genuine admiration. Jiang Xuehan blushed, scratching her head modestly.

Back at work, shift leader Li Xiuxiu gazed in awe. "Xiao Han, you’re amazing! You game better than boys! I get crushed by my boyfriend in everything."

"Hehe, just talent…"

"Here, take this milk tea to table 13."

"Okay…"